


A Valentine's Comedy of Errors

by Antheas_Blackberry



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Chocolate, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Greg hates paperwork, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mycroft is the government, Mystrade Valentines Calendar 2018, Plants, Tea, Valentine's Day, events not going to plan, fireplace chats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:40:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antheas_Blackberry/pseuds/Antheas_Blackberry
Summary: It's Valentine's day, a day for lovers to indulge one another.  Sometimes it doesn't always go to plan.





	1. Plant

It was Valentine's Day, which to both Greg and Mycroft, was just another day. In this case it was Wednesday, a day in which Mycroft had more phone calls than meetings, and Greg had stacks upon stacks of paperwork thanks to an uncooperative Sherlock. Eventually, frustrated with his progress, Greg piled the files on top of one another, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door.

Greg knew that Mycroft detested this time of year and using Valentine's day as an excuse, he decided to brighten up his lover's office. He headed out to the Battersea Flower Station and searched among the greenery and vibrant colours of flora and fauna until he found the perfect addition to Mycroft's office.

Packing it up, he loaded the plant and himself into the car, and headed towards his destination. 

Forty minutes later, he had arrived at Mycroft's office and was greeted with a nod from Anthea. Greg opened the door to Mycroft's office, at the same time Mycroft was opening it from the other side and the younger man immediately got hit full on in the face with the large plant.

"Shit! Sorry Myc!" Greg exclaimed, turning Mycroft around and hustling him back into his office. 

Mycroft gave Greg a curious look, but then a strange expression crossed his face. He quickly whirled around and sneezed violently four times in quick succession.

Greg put the plant down on Mycroft's desk and then approached his partner. He put a comforting arm on Mycroft's. "Bless you, love. I'm sorry. That wasn't how I planned on giving you your Valentine's day gift."

Mycroft turned to him, handkerchief in hand, as he dabbed his nose. "Thank you my dear. The spider plant will be a welcome addition to my office." 

Mycroft smiled, and wandered over towards his desk. He appraised the gift, smoothing the fronds of the plant. He traced a manicured finger around the neatly crafted rope detailing on the pot. "And what a delightful Terra Cotta pot, Gregory. Thank you."


	2. Tea

"Where were you going?" Greg asked.

"Oh. When you came in?" 

Greg nodded.

"I was going to get our tea," Mycroft stated.

"Let me love, seeing as I've just smacked you in the face with this plant," Greg said.

Mycroft chuckled, a sound that Greg never tired of hearing. 

"Oh, very well."

"You just want to look at my arse as I leave the room," Greg teased.

"Who me?" Mycroft attempted to look innocent.

Winking at his lover, Greg left the office with a definite, exaggerated swagger.

A few moments later there was a muffled curse and the sound of clattering of teacups before Greg returned. 

The DI looked harried.

"What on earth happened?" Mycroft inquired.

"I burned my bloody hand on the tea," Greg said. He set the tray down on the coffee table. He sucked his index finger and then blew on it.

Mycroft crossed over and took Greg's hand in his. "It doesn't look serious," he remarked as he led Greg to his private bathroom. He ran the cold tap and had Greg hold his hand under the water for a few moments. 

"Are you alright?" Mycroft inquired.

"Yeah, it hurts like a bitch but I'll live." He looked down at his hand and frowned.

"Indeed."


	3. Chocolate

After sufficiently soaking Greg's hand, the two retired to the sofa in Mycroft's office to share a cup of tea, this time without any scalding involved. After they had been sitting and talking for a while, Mycroft rose from his seat, went over to his desk, and retrieved a small box.

He sat down again and handed the small box to Greg. 

"For you, my dear."

Grinning, Greg untied the red ribbon and removed the gold foil wrapping. Lifting the lid, he was eagerly anticipating the delectable and fancy dark chocolates that he knew would be nestled inside. Instead, he grimaced as he dragged his finger through the tissue paper. There were no chocolates to be found.

Mycroft took the box from Greg, raising an eyebrow.

"This day certainly is not going to plan," Mycroft finally said after staring at the box devoid of chocolates for a moment.

Greg could do nothing but nod and laugh in agreement. "And I've got a stack of paperwork this high on my desk," he added, lamenting his fate. 

"I have a meeting with the PM," Mycroft countered, his mouth puckered in disgust.

"You win," Greg laughed.


	4. Fire

Later that night Mycroft and Greg were sitting by the fire enjoying a glass of Scotch. They had eaten a late dinner and were using this quiet time to catch up with the rest of each other's days and to just spend some quiet time before retiring for the evening. 

Greg had enjoyed the chocolates that Mycroft was able to procure before returning home for the evening, so all was not lost. Mycroft even caved and ate one of the dark chocolates himself, unable to resist after tasting the delightful confectionary on Greg's lips as they kissed.

Mycroft had been recounting his long arduous afternoon with the PM, Greg's head in his lap. His long fingers were carding through Greg's soft silver hair. 

After he finished his tale, he stared off into the fire for a few moments, relishing the quiet and calm as if it were a balm to soothe his rattled nerves after such a long day. He looked down at Greg and found the older man sound asleep, obviously exhausted from his own tiresome day, soothed into slumber by Mycroft's comforting presence.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my dearest heart," Mycroft whispered.


End file.
